


I'm Lonely (You Left Too Early)

by capriciousmayhem



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, I cried a little bit writing it, I was listening to piano covers of your lie in april osts during this, I wrote this so I could sleep peacefully, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Not Beta Read, This was meant to be sad, i wrote this at 3 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capriciousmayhem/pseuds/capriciousmayhem
Summary: It was the first time since Jongin’s funeral that Sehun had visited the meadow where he had spent his childhood with the boy who had the softest hair and most beautiful smile.





	

**Author's Note:**

> instead of revising for maths, I wrote sekai angst 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~productivity, ladies and gentlemen~~
> 
>  
> 
> honestly I was just feeling meh before I wrote this  
> now that I've cried a little I feel better  
> so I can sleep
> 
> if this makes you cry, I consider this a job well done

Sehun’s eyelashes fluttered delicately as he closed his eyes, like the snow that fell from the white clouds. The small snowflakes glittered brightly in the sun’s light that shone over the large field. They fell like angels – slowly and beautifully, twirling in the air and landing softly to join the mass beneath them.

He sighed openly, his breath creating a puff of swirly air. His onyx coloured hair contrasted with the pure white around him, making it seem that much more ethereal. The cold seeped under his thick winter coat, biting into his skin and reaching for the innermost parts of him. Involuntarily, he shook and trembled, his body unused to the freezing temperatures. Words echoed in his mind, though they were dulled:

_“You never did like the cold,”_

They still forced him to take another deep breath and open his eyes, blinking rapidly to remove the precariously hanging dots of white that clung to his lashes. He was greeted with the sight that he had already engraved into his mind, the surroundings staying the same whether it was winter, summer, spring or autumn – the same hundred year old tree far off in the distance, the same worn out pavement that travelled around the field, the same wooden fence that had given him numerous splinters when he jumped over it. He almost wanted to pull his hands out of his pockets and take his gloves off just so he could look at his fingers, slender and soft but littered with scars and cuts. He smiled tenderly subconsciously thinking about it, about the memories of him as a young child, brash and reckless as he vaulted himself over the fence even when his parents had warned him not to. He remembered vividly that the only reason he had gone and disobeyed his parents was because of another boy with fluffy chestnut hair and a gleeful smile, convincing him with words of, ‘ _What’s the worst that could happen, Sehun? Come on, it’ll be fun! I’ll leave you behind if you’re not coming!’_

A small pain in his heart welled up tears in his eyes when he remembered the time when he and Jongin were only teenagers, but he had announced in full seriousness that he wanted the field, their childhood playground, to be his burial place. His lips weren’t pulled in a grin, something unusual for Jongin, when he loudly and clearly said: _“Sehun. I want you to promise me that when I die, you’ll have my grave here.”_ He recalled having glanced at his best friend in curiosity, a question on the tip of his tongue. He had wanted to ask, but he never had the courage to, his response being a casual ‘okay.’ Jongin had looked back at him then, his trademark smile plastered on his face and Sehun had promptly forgotten about it, his own body warming up with happiness just seeing the other beaming.

They were good memories, Sehun told himself. He never wanted to forget them in case he forgot a part of Jongin, wonderful, cheerful Jongin. He withheld his cries, wanting to spend his time thinking about all the good times instead of crying: God knew he had already spent the first few months doing that.

It was the first time since Jongin’s funeral that Sehun had visited the meadow. He looked down, expecting to see the stains of his tears still there on the cold concrete, but the same asphalt surface greeted him, no different from the day of _his_ burial and no different from the day he had slipped and cut his knee when he was seven years old.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, barely feeling the snowflakes that landed on his head. He imagined his smile full of teeth, the way his eyes crinkled into adorable crescents, his plush pink lips, his dyed silver hair that flew up and down whenever he ran or jumped, his melodious voice that had sent him to sleep so many times, his endearing laugh that everyone found at least a little bit weird but Sehun had always loved it. He imagined the feeling of his arms wrapping around his torso as they sat in front of the fireplace when the power had gone out and their only source of warmth was each other and a thick fleece blanket, the feeling of his nose nuzzling into his neck, the feeling of his marginally larger hands tracing shapes onto the backs of his, the feeling of just knowing he was home, enveloped in his bear hug.

His first tear fell when memories of Jongin laughing and encircling Sehun with his arms when the raven haired boy got particularly clingy and started mumbling ‘ _Nini bear~ cuddle me,’_ with a small pout on his thin lips resurfaced and filled his mind. He instinctively raised a gloved hand to cover his mouth as a choked sob escaped him, the dam of tears having broken.

The snowflakes falling around him made Sehun feel lonelier, as if they were separating him from the rest of the world. Their angelic qualities only reminded him of Jongin, a sweet and caring angel whose warmth he longed for, whose feeling of home he tried to find in the comfort of his duvet for weeks, only for him to come out empty handed.

He held back another sob by biting his hand, scrunching his eyes shut as the tears cascaded down his pale cheeks. His skin was ashen, a side effect of not having left his bed for weeks. Jongin’s voice sounded almost real in his ears and he cried harder, wishing it could be true, wishing that he was still there with him.

_“Aish, you idiot, you should go outside more! You’re like a vampire,”_

His tears dripped down from his chin to the ground, melting away small amounts of snow and uncovering the faded black of the pavement. The cold wind that brushed past him served as a reminder of how, in that moment, the thing that Sehun wanted most was Jongin’s arms coddling him, his chiselled chin resting atop his head as he pulled the younger in to his broad chest. Jongin always knew if Sehun wanted consoling or just his presence to be calmed by, if he wanted to hear his soft whispers of ‘it’ll be okay, Sehun,’ and ‘don’t worry, Hunnie, everything’s going to be alright,’ or if the feeling of strong arms around him, _Jongin’s_ strong arms, was enough to ground him.

Standing there, crying into his own arm, in front of a newly built tombstone with the words ‘KIM JONG IN JANUARY 14TH 1994 – 18th APRIL 2016’ engraved on it, Sehun truly felt that in those seconds, he was the loneliest man in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> anyone notice nini died almost a week after sehun's birthday  
> if you did, good job
> 
> here goes nothing (because who cares about proof reading at 3am)  
> *clicks post*


End file.
